The Voyage West RP

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Trailen felt a small desire to know the tortures that this man had obviously endured, but decided that he would not pry.

"Likewise if you stick with me you will likely see my curse...as will the others."

Trailen decided to leave the man to his solitude, they had no desire to share anything with eachother and to be honest Trailen was nervous around the man, and nerves were a dangerous thing for Trailen. He headed up on deck to find Alandra, and to apologise for his rather impromtu disappearence. He found her where he had left her, by the rail of the ship.

"I apologise for my rather abrupt disappearence, I...uh...felt a little ill and needed to sit down somewhere quiet." It was almost the truth Trailen thought "I am feeling better now though" he smiled.

"Now I have left behind the land and my old life, I feel myself anxious for this day to end and the next to begin, to see what the next day should bring" Trailen looked around the ship "It is a feeling I have not felt since I was a child and I find myself beginning to enjoy it" he chuckled, but soon regretted it, the pressure returned in full force, he felt an energy shoot down his arm, he winced in pain. Looking down he saw the wood was charred where his hand had been and his palm was slightly burned...he had been lucky, but that did not change that he had been careless...he awaited a reaction from those around him...awaited the accusations...

 

Salandris decided its enough helping for today.
He cleared the swet from his forehead and left the oar .His colleagues seemed interesting enough but he was to tired for making any kind of conversation, but then again he wouldnt do it anyway.Trees and birds where close to his heart people were not.For him conversation was a mean of getting informations,anything other than that was a risk of creating bonds.
He sat on the deck and started carving his bow.
It helped him clear his mind and the journey easier to bear.He started huming a prayer to Iphemen as he softly carved her simbols into the weapon.

 

"Well, Norin of Elmport, I shall be sure to recommend your skills to anyone who enquires. We have a long trip ahead, I believe, so there will be many hours for us to discuss the finer points of ship design, but if you would excuse me for now, as I would much like to finish my reading before sunset."

 

Nightfall was nearing, The end of another day. Max always marked the passing of day into night, It was like a ritual for him. It meant he had something to aim for each day, a personal goal that was never realy achived, but he worked at it anyway. Knowing that there was always something to aim for at the end of the day made it all worthwhile somehow. He was about to go below to find a place to sleep for the night, when he saw a burn mark on the railing that he swore was not there before. It was in the shape of a hand.

"Well well well... looks like we have another mage. How much trouble is this going to cause I wonder?"

For the first time in a long time, Max felt a genuine smile on his face. This jorney would be something that, for better or worse, he would remember for the rest of his life.

 

Trailen, noticing that no one had said anything had taken his opportunity to disappear below decks, his hand throbbed painfully. After rummaging in a few loose crates he found some cloth, obviously for patching the sails, and ripping a strip off tied it around his hand. He winced, not great but it'd do. Then he went to find somewhere to sleep for the night.

 

As the day moved along and as the longboat moved farther and farther into waters of the western ocean the Sun Disk found its way into the west and the Moon Maiden began to rise in the east. The moon was in the gibbous phase tonight and red, which was a good omen. As the last rays of sun disappeared, Alandra lit up a lantern and sailors began to gather around her as she told stories of heroes in ages past.

"Gather round and listen to the tale of Sir Ordren and the Lady of Drunkenness, a tale of foolishness in the face of beauty."

Sir Ordren of Laysbough was indeed a real figure who existed over five hundred years ago though this particular tale was likely entirely fictitious. Sir Ordren was a great knight particularly known for his skill with the lance and his sorties against a pair of green dragons that had taken up residence in Fairwood Forest, terrorizing fey and humanoid alike. However in his supposed encounter with the Lady of Drunkenness, he was far from his native Lyonesse, seeking the Burning Wastes to the south and east of the great kingdom of Akhunein which further takes from the credibility of the story. In this particular tale Sir Ordren had gotten up the idea of putting an end to the Neithutet herself, a favorite villain of bards and other story tellers. The actual tale itself had little to do with Neithutet until the end. The tale itself paid more homage to the bravery or foolishness of Sir Ordren, both of which are attributed to him in great supply. Sir Ordren had come to reside in the house of a wealthy Akhuneinian noble while searching for Neithutet, while here, Sir Ordren was tempted with many gifts, including the noble's daughter, if he would only forget his quest and be content not to throw his life away. In standard fashion of most popular tales, Ordren has a long speach about how great deeds surpass the greatest of treasures and how he would rather die a brave man then live and suffer the insults of being called a coward. In standard fashion, the tale exalts bravery and because Sir Ordren acts quickly rather then hesitating he finds Neithutet passed out from drinking too much. The tale however holds a second lesson about the power of beauty and more specifically beautiful women when Ordren finds himself unable to harm the evil goddess as he is overwhelmed by her beauty. In the end Sir Ordren returns disgraced, unable to complete what he had set out to do. There are several different tellings to Sir Ordren's actual meeting with Neithutet with Alandra telling the one most appropriate for a sailor's bar.

"Why don't you tell us another tale Alandra." said Aewilar, "Something for a more serious crowd. Tales like that of Sir Ordren and the Lady of Drunkenness please the copper crowds, but let us hear something that would please a wealthier crowd."

"Will the Ballad of St. Acaenia do?"

"Most certainly."

The Ballad of St. Acaenia was another popular tale, but it's heroine tended to keep it less interesting for the copper crowds as St. Acaenia the White Lily had sworn both a vow of chastity and a vow of nonviolence. St. Acaenia was an orphan, found on the doors of one of Daimorath's temples, a fate common for the children of Daimorath's angels and humans. Like most children who had such parentage, St. Acaenia found herself in the service of the church, becoming a paladin of Daimorath in order to actively correct the ways of evil doers. The Ballad of St. Acaenia predominately focused on her relationship with her some times enemy and sometimes ally, Vairan Mourcross, who St. Acaenia was clearly in love with and her tragic death in the infernal plane of the Fiend Lords known as Yethrek. Alandra, however was not able to get far into the tale before being interrupted. Ulgar, Mogrub and Haukor, among others, had decided to get to drinking the mead that had been brought with and it was not long before Ulgar broke lustily into song singing what where seemingly the most bawdy ballads he knew.

"Fine, if this is the way it's going to go, I'm done telling tales."

Alandra got up and went off else where, and those who had assembled around her went off to do the last things they needed before sleep and the arrival of the new morning.

[ January 16, 2007, 02:44: Message edited by: Ilmater's Suffering ]

 

At that point, Corth could've strangled Urgeld and the rest of the 'moronic' crew. For the one time - one time - that Corth went above decks to actually interact with the people around him - a first in a great while. A fairly attractive woman told the story of Sir Ordren, but, instead of telling it properly, she ended up giving the masses 'The Sailor's Ending' of what transpired between Ordren and Neithutet.
This woman had introduced herself as Andra? Or Aludra? Corth felt stupid for not paying attention. She seemed reasonably intelligent. More than he could say for most of the 'rabble' on this ship.

Then, the woman spoke of St. Acaenia. Corth didn't like this tale very much. As it spoke of non-violence and 'goodwill' towards those who would spite you. While Acaenia and Vairan were righteous warriors in themselves. The tale lacked a degree of realism. The two central humans were portrayed as 'good', while the antagonist was a daemon. And, therefore, evil.
It failed to show that humans - and most mortal races for that matter - were failable. That, some men were irredeemable. That not all evil could be persuaded with kind words. In the tale that Corth knew, Acaenia - in her naievity - had attempted to reason with the daemon Yethrek, and was killed before she even raised her weapon. Foolish idiot. Acaenia should never have been canonised. You couldn't reason with daemons.

Despite all the 'wrongness' of her tellings of the story, Corth listened to every word. If anything, Corth could admit that she did have the crowd rapt in her tale. That was of course, until the less intelligent part of the crew decieded to get drunk.

How could they be so stupid!? Corth knew about a sailor's fondness for drink...But at sea? If one of them were to fall overboard, Corth decieded that that fate was all too good for them.

Feigning tiredness. Corth went belowdecks to see if he could get some rest away from 'the rabble'. However, once Corth had lain down in his heavy cloak. He found that sleep quickly crept up on him.

[ March 15, 2007, 10:53: Message edited by: Cheesegear ]

 

Max looked away from the sight of drunken sailors and headed down stairs to the place he had slept the previous night in the cargo hold. While he wanted to hear the last of the tale, it would obviously be a waste of time trying to listen above the noise of a drunked brawl.

Finding, to his relief, that no one had disturbed where he had last slept, he lay down his staff and closed his eyes. He dreamed of waves and water.

 

The morning came early for most as Urgeld, who showed no signs of that would tell of his drinking the night before, roused the crew to begin the morning work. Amidst the morning fog that so often settled come morning in the northern waters, viewers could see right whales surface not far from the boat.

"The whales are a good sign, it means we don't have to worry about kraken, dragon turtles or other beings of the deep." said Urgeld to the crew.

Voices could be heard in the mists splashing and laughing in the distance, young voices, both male and female. Aewilar approached Urgeld and whispered something in his ear, the huge man nodded in agreement and turned to look out into the mists as if searching for something.

"Keep yourself alert, we're dealing with teenagers here, if we doze off, we might become victims of their jokes."

 

Standing on the deck of the ship, Max noted he was the first one up who was not of the crew. This would give him some time to himself and he headed to the stern of the ship, wondering if he would need any magic soon. Juging from the sounds comeing from over the side of the ship, he gussed drying spells would most likely be needed before the day was out.

He seriously doubted he would need anything major for several days at least.

 

After departing the gathering last night as soon as Alandra was interupted, Kala headed directly for her room. Closing the door firmly behind her, she took the gold chain from around her neck, holding it tightly in her hand. She opened the case of the lantern in her room and then began chanting softly, in her quiet voice. After but a few moments, Kala leaned forwards and blew softly over the flame. The flame flickered slightly in her breath, but quickly grew in brightness, soon filling the whole room with a consistent light as bright as day. Smiling at the effect, Kala carefully closed the door of the lantern and sat down to begin pouring through a pile of books she had taken from her bag earlier.

The following morning Kala arose early, as was habbit. Between her readings and the swaying of the boat, she had had little sleep, but still awoke some how looking fresh although slightly pale from the swaying. She headed out to the deck, in hopes of getting some fresh air to settle her stomach, nodding politely to the crew members as she past them.

Reaching the deck she leaned against one of the sides, taking in a deep breath of the cold ocean air. After a few minutes of watching the wake from the ship disappear in the distance, her eyes caught sight of the black figure up the front of the ship - the young man who had watched her briefly the other day, while she talked to the shipwright. Smiling slightly to herself, she walked up quietly beside him, before speaking.

"Did you not know wearing such dark colours upon a ship is nearly as bad luck as having a lady aboard?"

 

Corth awoke suddenly. He wasn't a light sleeper, nor was he a good sleeper. Awaking several times in the night. Whether that was because of the ship's tossing and turning in the water. Or the fact that Corth didn't usually get more than two or three hours sleep at a time and now his body was used to it.

He opened one eye and took a look at his surroundings. He then opened his other eye. Not having any change of clothing, he had slept in his travel clothing and he hadn't taken off his heavy cloak. Corth was aware he stank, and that he could probably be smelled in the Ethereal Plane. But, it was a ship, and it was only to be expected. Corth rubbed his chin. The beard still itched. He'd have to shave it off sooner or later. But, he didn't have the supplies nor the time to do it.

Corth went above decks and watched the sailors go about their duties on the ship. Sadly, non of them had fallen overboard, and - seemingly - none of the sailors had suffered any ill-effects from last night's drinking. If only... thought Corth.

Corth was heading to the prow of the ship when he heard a voice a feminine voice say "Did you not know wearing such dark colours upon a ship is nearly as bad luck as having a lady aboard?" Luckily, Corth realised that the woman wasn't talking to him, and instead was talking to another man dressed all in black.

Corth smirked as he looked at his own clothing That makes two of us. he thought to himself as he slowly turned around and walked towards the rear of the ship.

 

Hearing a voice, Max turned around with a start. He saw it was the woman whom he had assumed a mage the previous day. After a brief hesitation he answered.

"Thats just a sailor's superstition, bad luck isn't determined by what colour your clothing is, at least to my knowledge. Some people are just... unlucky.
My name is Max Spellman, and if I might inquire, what is yours?"

 

"I see you're no worse from last night's ordeal.", said Alandra rather sharply to Haukor.

"I'd be dishonoring my dwarven blood if I was nursing a hangover right now. That wasn't enough mead for one with dwarven to suffer from."

"But it was enough to make you obnoxious last night and interrupt the story I was telling last night."

Haukor grinned slightly, the half-dwarf business mentality began to sweep over him.

"Now miss, I apologize for what I did last night, I would have never done such if I knew it would offend you. You see bad relations make for bad business so to speak."

"You'd better just not do that again tonight, I don't go out of my way to tell stories just to have drunks interrupt them. I swear tavern patrons are more respectful then you and Urgeld were the other night."

"I'll listen to your stories then tonight. I'll be real quite and respectful, I swear this by Pyltharam's beard." said Haukor giving Alandra a wink before walking away.

Alandra walked over to the edge of the longboat and pulled a strange amulet out of her tunic consisting of a strange black sphere surrounded by a depiction in bronze of glabrezu. She turned the amulet over and over in her hand seemingly lost in thought.

 

Trailen awoke slowly, several times the rocking of the boat threatened to send him back into his slumber, eventually he gathered enough energy and conciousness to sit up, and wiping away the sleep from his eyes he stretched...he hadn't slept properly for a long time, and for once he felt well rested.

He rose and pulled on his shirt and cloak, he winced as he tried to use his hand forgetting his mishap of the previous day. He started to move towards the deck as he finished fastening his sword belt, he felt the brisk morning sea air strike him and he took a deep breath. He glanced around seeing a man and a woman in conversation at the front of the ship, Corth stood at the rear and Alandra at the side, she didn't appear to want to be disturbed so he decided to settle down at the base of one of the masts and keep out of trouble...maybe he'd talk to someone new later, but the day was still young...

 

"Ah, but do not even the most obscure legends and myths have their grounds somewhere? For all we might know black might be a draw point for dragons," Kala smiled. "But I do not think we really have to fear any dragons with living legends like Urgeld Bearpaw aboard."

"I am Kala. Might I ask where your name hails from, Master Spellman? Was your father a member of the Order?"

 

"My name..."

Max trailed off. He hadn't thought about his family in a long time and suddenly felt guilty. In all honesty he had no idear if they were alive or dead.

"Spellman is an old family name, from a family that valued magical ability in all things. Typicaly it was given to youths who show talent at an early age, but I was the first to recive it in a long time. Was my farther a mage of the Order? No, nore has any of my family been members of the order for several hundred years. I most certinaly am not. Their recent distrust of all with innate talent is not something that encourages membership.

So miss Kala, might I assume that you are an Order trained wizard?"

 

"A curious assumption to make, Master Spellman," Kala replied without hessitation, with a slightly ammused smile stuck on her face. "But you are correct, none the less. I hope you understand that such a distrust you speak of is not universal within the Order. There are a few who believe that a lot can be learned from thosee innate talent. But those few are usually fools.

Did the thought not cross your mind that by having such uncontrollable power aboard the ship, not only are you putting your own life at risk but every other member of this voyage? All it would take is a bad dream or a drink too many to put as on the ocean floor."

 

"Are, so you do think we are dangrous. I can assure you Kala, that If I were not in control of my powers, I would probably not be alive today and as for drinking, I can't stand the taste of most rum or ale. Regardless, it's probably not me you have to worry about on this ship, but whoever nealy burned through the railing next to your hand there."

Max knew he should probably leave just like he had for most of his life, but after years of avoiding contact with others it felt good to talk to someone.
Besides, he found he rather liked this mage.

 

Silandris woke up.He choose to sleep on the deck,
closer to fresh air.He looked around, most of the people were already up.He decided he would finish his bow today , there was no matter of knowing what kind of dangers could surprise them on the voyage.It was his tradition to make a new bow for every new expedition he made, so he continued his work.